This Love (Will Be Your Downfall)
by xsummer-rain
Summary: QW14 Quinntana Week Day 5 AU: [Mafia!AU] "I'm meant to hate you, right? Santana tentatively reached out and she traced her finger down the length of Quinn's arm. Her finger glided across smooth skin, mapping out unseen patterns and lines."


**Amor y Odio**

**This Love Will Be Your Downfall**

author: summer_rain

**A/N: hi all, i've been really busy and will continue to be very busy this year. I thought I might participate in Quinntana Week (well at least one of the days, i might post the other days next week or something) so here is something i wrote up. It's not prefect and I haven't edited it thoroughly. It was more of a "i just want to write something for you all to read" type of work. If you find any mistakes etc, feel free to message me and I'll fix it ASAP. enjoy :) **

**Quinntana Week Day 5: AU ['Mafia']**

* * *

**PART I:**

* * *

Blonde hair.

Hazel eyes.

A beautiful figure.

Dangerous.

_Quinn Fabray._

Santana's eyes narrowed at the woman that strode past. Quinn walked with an air of confidence. Her presence parted crowds and made boys' hearts melt. Her eyes aloof, a piercing green with a cold hard glint in them.

Quinn Fabray.

_Fabray._

Santana sighed leaning against the cold metal of the street light. She was well acquainted with the name. The Fabrays were well known to their family.

Their history went back way too long. Their family business was always threatened by the Fabrays. The Fabrays always found a way to clash with them.

The Fabrays were their enemies.

"Santana."

Santana's father addressed her, a deep and smooth baritone. He calmly placed his fedora onto his head, and tilted ittowards the black Jaguar waiting, it's powerful engine purred.

Santana nodded and followed him into the sleek vehicle.

* * *

The large dining room was set up for a meeting. The glass table seated all the important people within their 'business'. They were seated in leather black chairs, some held a cigarette between their teeth. The faint wisps of cigarette smoke drifted towards the slightly opened window, carried away by the wind outside.

Antonio sat at the head of the table.

"The Fabrays are in town." Antonio Lopez's eyebrows were furrowed as he addressed the rest of his family.

A murmur spread through the members. It grew before tapering off again, mouths pulled into a thin lines and scowls etched onto faces of stone.

"This is our territory, I thought Russell knew that. We had a deal with them." Santana's cousin Carlos's voice was sharp. It crackled with sparks of rage that was threatening to ignite.

"I guess he is up to something then. Is he breaking the truce? They must be confident enough to do so."

"Be on alert. The Fabrays are dangerous and ruthless."

"I heard Russell was expanding his drug trading to these regions."

The Lopez's were hit-men; silent, efficient and extremely dangerous. Even the worst of them was still an efficient killer. The ability to assassinate, ran through the Lopez bloodline, just like the adrenaline rush the act itself brought.

But that was not their only speciality.

Even just in Antonio's backyard, beneath the first few feet of soil lay a basement-like structure. In the cool and dry air below there were boxes. Heavy duty metal boxes that housed many different varieties of weaponry. Machine guns, shotguns, handguns, anything that the US Government could get their hands on, the Lopezs already owned. They were specialists in handling the equipment that was so often used to end the lives of those who wronged them. It was also where the bulk of their business lay-the mass selling and trading of these prized weapons.

The Fabrays were the best in their own ways. They were smugglers. Drugs, people, weapons, and anything that they wanted. They used the guise of the Fabray goods shipping company to smuggle stuff across borders, across oceans and into foreign countries.

They loved the Drug Trade.

"Fucking Fabrays, they think they can just mess with us."

"We'll show them." Carlos snarled.

The table roared in agreement. Santana sat at her place to the left of her father. Her expression unreadable.

* * *

"Lopez." Quinn was curt.

Santana's palm met the metal of the locker door and gently pushed it shut. It clanged.

She turned around.

Santana gazed into those eyes. They were green today with a ring of brown. A combination that was impossibly beautiful.

"Fabray." Santana nodded at Quinn.

They weren't meant to even speak.

It was in the code.

Her blonde hair was out today, falling perfectly onto her shoulders.

Quinn's demeanour suddenly changed, a small smile graced her lips. A light danced in her eyes.

Santana's memory brought back the countless smiles that had been thrown her way. Some tight lipped, others attempts to woo her, sent under the cover of bright lights and the thumping of the bass. Smiles that started with a twitch of pink lips and ended with the peaking of white teeth. But never had one like _hers_.

Santana decided that a smile would never look better on anyone else.

"Quinn. Call me Quinn."

An alarm went off in Santana's mind. A warning that should have sent Santana's defenses on alert. Should have forced her to utter harsh words, that would cut like daggers at the blonde.

Despite everything, Santana offered her hand to Quinn.

"Santana."

Quinn smiled shyly again. Her head tilted slightly, eyes flickering to meet Santana's.

"Will you show me around this town?"

Had it been anyone else Santana's sharp tongue would've uttered a string of harsh words without hesitation. But instead she crossed her arms and paused. She tilted her chin upwards slightly as though she was contemplating her choice.

There was never a choice when it came to Quinn.

Santana knew her father would kill her.

But she couldn't stop herself if she wanted to..

"There's nothing to see in Lima...but sure..."

* * *

Quinn watched as Santana walked around the corner. Was Santana alone? Quinn mentally cursed at herself, Santana would bring company (definitely a bodyguard.) She _was_ Quinn _Fabray_ for christ's sake.

But she was alone.

Santana was dressed casually. She wore a cropped top that revealed her caramel skin and toned abs. The sweats that she wore sat low on her hips, the peak of the Latina's hipbones in plain sight.

Her hair was out, the gentle Summer breeze played with Santana's raven locks, a few strands danced in the wind.

She was gorgeous.

A goddess.

But she was Santana Lopez.

A _Lopez._

She was the enemy.

"Quinn?" Santana had reached her and stopped.

"Hey..." Quinn replied hesitantly, suddenly she was nervous and unsure. _What was she doing? Why was she talking to Santana?_

Santana stood there looking slightly bemused, a casual air of nonchalance surrounded her. The corner of her lip twitched slightly, an indication of Santana's amusement at Quinn's sudden quandary.

"Relax Quinn, I'm not going to shoot you or whatever."

Quinn frowned slightly.

"And what makes you think I haven't planned to kill _you_ instead Santana?" Quinn stated.

Santana rolled her eyes playfully. "_Please_."

She dragged out the word.

Quinn's eyes were immediately drawn to Santana's mouth as she enunciated the word. She watched the full lips as they moved and formed the word that easily rolled off Santana's tongue.

Santana's voice was slightly raspy yet Quinn liked the sound. It was like the texture of honeycomb; the slight crunch and sweetness that followed, all combined with the taste of caramel. It was so...Quinn shook her head and pushed the thought away.

"Like I wouldn't be able to take you Fabray." Santana's voice broke Quinn out of her reverie.

Quinn scowled at Santana.

"Don't call me that."

There was a pause.

"Please, Santana."

Something in Santana's eyes shifted, the seemingly permanent scowl and prideful sneer faded and her whole face softened. "Okay."

They stood there looking into each others eyes.

"Let's go." Santana broke eye contact first. She subconsciously reached out and closed her fingers around Quinn's forearm, gently tugging her forward.

Quinn's body erupted in goosebumps. A tingle of warmth shot up Quinn's arm from where Santana's hand was touching her.

Santana jolted at the skin to skin contact and loosened her grip. She withdrew her hand allowing it to fall limply by her side.

"Sorry. It's a habit." Santana mumbled quietly.

"It's alright."

"Well..." Santana trailed off before tilting her head indicating that Quinn should follow her.

_She shouldn't follow Santana._

But she did.

* * *

Santana's eyes flickered sideways and through her lashes she admired the beauty of the blonde beside her. Santana bit her lip, the dimples on her cheeks becoming more prominent.

Quinn.

Why couldn't Santana control herself. It was like whenever Quinn was around she lost her mind. What she was doing now was a great example of that.

She was breaking all the rules in the Lopez Rule Book.

She was befriending a Fabray.

She was showing a Fabray around town.

She was alone.

She was unarmed.

But the glow on Quinn's face as she laughed at Santana's commentary was worth it. Quinn managed to beam at her with the force of ten thousand fucking suns and had somehow managed to make her blush just by offering a simple compliment. She was Santana Lopez and she _did not blush_.

The way her had eyes gleamed, hanging onto every word that came out of Santana's mouth and the radiance of warmth that Quinn's presence brought. The way the soft sunlight had illuminated Quinn's profile, her cheekbones glowing.

It was totally worth it.

The more time Santana spent with Quinn, the more complicated it all got and the more confused Santana became.

Her head screamed at her to stop but her heart thudded loudly in her chest, a personal drumbeat, urging her on.

How could someone be so absolutely flawless?

How could someone be her saviour and yet at the same time be the death of her?

Quinn's laughter softly chimed in her ears.

"Santana! Eat your ice cream, it's melting all over your hands!"

_How the fuck did Quinn manage to make a giggle sound so melodic?_

Santana's attention snapped down to her hands. The ice cream had melted dripping down the sides of her cone, onto her hands...and just at that second, right onto her shirt.

"Shit."

Quinn rolled her eyes, reached forward and stole the ice cream from Santana's now outstretched hand.

Santana eyes followed Quinn's pink tongue as it poked out of her mouth and skillfully caught the dribbles of melting ice cream running down the sides of the cone. She watched as Quinn swirled the ice cream in her mouth.

Santana felt her own breathing hitch. She clenched her hands into fists by her sides, her nails leaving crescent shaped imprints in the soft flesh of her palm.

Quinn closed her eyes and hummed contently.

"You _were_ right, this _does_ taste better."

When their gazes met Quinn's pupils were dilated. Quinn's eyes were predominantly brown today, sprinkled with specks of gold. A kaleidoscope of colours that shifted depending on the angle on the light that hit it.

Quinn quickly averted her eyes shyly.

"I think I need to change." Santana blurted.

Quinn licked at Santana's ice cream once more and nodded. "Okay. I'll wait here."

"There's no one home..." Santana started. She quickly shut her mouth, before opening and closing it a few times and then finally continuing.

"...You can come over, so you don't have wait here by yourself.."

Suddenly all her thoughts were in a state of disarray. Santana struggled to make sense of what had happened.

_Wait._

Quinn's eyes widened a little before she bit her lip again. A crease appeared between her brows.

"...It's fine if you don't want to though...I get it, the Fabray and Lopez thing." Santana ran her hand through her hair.

They were silent for a while. Each unsure of what to say. The rules they were breaking were suddenly flung to forefront of their minds, the final syllables of their last names still hung in the air between them, ringing in their ears. The tension grew, slowly permeating into the air.

They were walking on a thin line.

"It's your loss, Q." Santana added after a while, shattering the atmosphere and the unseen tension that had been building.

"I'll be back in ten."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow at the Latina. "I'm counting."

* * *

Santana.

_No, Quinn._ Finish your homework.

Quinn sighed at the half finished French homework that lay before her.

_"Une rose par n'importe quel autre nom sentirait aussi bon."_

Quinn closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers into her temple, trying to ease the pressure that seemed to be building up. It was barely eight, but her head was already reeling.

It didn't help that Yesterday kept playing through her head like a video tape stuck on repeat.

Quinn was playing with fire. (In the form of Santana Lopez.)

When did it get like this?

**Texts (1)**

**Unknown:**_Q..? Hey, its Santana. I got your number off your friend. -S_

Quinn typed out a simple response.

_Hi Santana, you know you could've always asked me yesterday ;) -Q_

Quinn sighed. Her hand hovered over the reply button.

She shouldn't be doing this?

She hit the send button.

* * *

In moments like this they were just Santana and Quinn. Nothing more and nothing less.

Not the daughters of Antonio Lopez and Russell Fabray.

Not the beautiful, ruthless and untouchable daughters of powerful mafia bosses.

Not sworn enemies.

Santana and Quinn lay on Quinn's queen sized bed. The other Fabrays were out of the state (in Florida) for at least a month. (Quinn stayed back for school...not for Santana or anything...)

Quinn's hair was splayed out on the pillow, forming a golden halo around her head. Santana lay nestled under the mess of covers. The digital clock on the bedside table flashed. 10:00am.

Santana shifted closer to Quinn, before kicking off the covers and rolling over onto her back, her arms crossed behind her head. Santana's eyes stared at the smooth white texture of the ceiling, tracing the outlines of the shadows which danced there and noticing the thin cobwebs in one corner.

"I'm meant to hate you, right?"

"Yeah, I'm meant to hate you too." Quinn replied softly.

Santana tentatively reached out and she traced her finger down the length of Quinn's arm. Her finger glided across smooth skin, mapping out unseen patterns and lines.

Quinn shuddered at the contact. Santana's finger left behind a trail of goosebumps on Quinn's skin.

"But I don't want to and I can't seem to."

Santana's fingers brushed the back of Quinn's hand and paused.

Quinn laced their fingers together.

"Me either."

Quinn's hands were soft, they entwined with Santana's tanned ones perfectly. Santana still shivered at the contact. No matter how many times Quinn's skin made contact with hers, there seemed to always be sparks that jumped between their bodies. It was like their touch was electric.

Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and her breathing was irregular.

The butterflies in her stomach returned.

Santana's eyes fluttered shut. She breathed in the vanilla and honey scent as she nuzzled into the crook of Quinn's neck. Slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

Santana's fingers found the corner of the covers. She twisted and tugged, fiddling with the material in her hands, bunching it up before letting it fall haphazardly again. Santana lay there contently basking in Quinn's warm glow. The blonde's nose brushed Santana's skin before soft lips pressed at the nape of her neck.

Santana's heart was melting from one simple touch, and she knew was falling for Quinn Fabray.

* * *

It was raining outside. The rain pattered incessantly against the window panes. To Quinn, it didn't matter what the weather was like. It was going to rain tomorrow no matter what happened today.

Quinn could hear the light footsteps of the Latina as she came up behind Quinn and felt the warmth that radiated off Santana as she slipped her arms around the blonde's waist. Quinn felt a hot puff of air caress her cheek before she was surrounded by the smell of Santana's shampoo. A warm weight rested itself on her shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?"

Quinn sighed, her chest rising then falling as she expelled the air from her lungs. She leaned back into Santana's body.

"The meeting tomorrow."

_Tomorrow things would change._

Santana didn't offer her grand words of promise. She didn't lie and say everything would be okay. All Santana did was press a simple kiss into Quinn's hair. To Quinn, the gesture spoke volumes. It was better than any spoken words of comfort, better than what a few words could've offered.

But even that couldn't stop the feeling of sadness, like waves greeting a shore, wash over Quinn. It wouldn't stop the sun from rising again tomorrow. Nothing would.

_They would have to forget each other._

"Stop thinking so much."

The words were whispered into her ear. She could almost hear the small smile that would have accompanied the words had they been facing each other.

Santana pulled away, Quinn immediately felt cold at the lost of contact. Santana's hands rested on either sides of her arms, gently spinning Quinn around to face her. Santana's eyes were open and honest. Brown pools of melted chocolate that glistened with emotion.

It was too much, Quinn felt her own tears welling up. The pain, desperation and sadness that once was settled heavy in her chest threatened to spill unbridled from her eyes.

"Why can't we can't have a happy ending." Her voice was thick, she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. The silent tears rolled down her face.

Santana closed her eyes, her voice cracked when she replied.

"We can't."

They had agreed on this and Quinn had dreaded this moment ever since they had agreed.

After tonight Santana was a Lopez and Quinn a Fabray.

They were to hate each other. To never see each other again, to eventually forget everything that happened between them, and to somehow muster the ability to feel pure hatred for one another.

"We can't." Quinn echoed defeatedly.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, downcast. She blinked back the fresh tears that had formed. Her body felt weak, her mind felt drained, it was like she no longer had the energy to keep doing this. There was no use. Everything was doomed from the start.

"Quinn, look at me..."

Santana's mocha eyes sought out her hazel.

_I love you Quinn._

The forbidden words were left unspoken. They didn't need to be. Quinn could see them written so plainly on Santana's face, flittering behind the multitude of emotions the Latina also currently felt. The words were conveyed by the steady gaze of Santana's eyes, eliciting a soft smile from Quinn.

Santana stepped forward, closing the distance between them once again. Quinn snaked her arms around Santana's waist, resting them just above the brunette's waist. Quinn leaned forward resting their foreheads together, their noses barely brushing.

Santana's eyes flickered to Quinn's lips and her tongue flicked over her own lips as she wetted them.

Quinn could feel Santana's breath tickling her lips, she could see the steady rise and fall of Santana's chest and knew that the heart that beat inside Santana's chest belonged solely to Quinn.

They wouldn't have tomorrow but they had tonight.

And for now, it was enough.

* * *

"Russell Fabray."

"Antonio Lopez."

The two men sized each other up, eyes sharp and ready to pick out the other's weakness. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Antonio tilted his hat, his voice's usual warm tone was cold. Russell's blue eyes were icy and stone hard.

The men on boths sides gripped the barrels of their guns tightly, knuckles turning white. At the request of both the families, The Fabrays and Lopezs had gathered at an abandoned warehouse out of town.

In neutral ground.

Russell was flanked by his men. They were all dressed in simple black, the colour of death. Hands were gripped menacingly on their rifles and handguns. Quinn stood to her father's right, impassive. She was dressed in a simple black dress, her eyes were lined with black eyeliner.

She was absolutely stunning.

But she was Quinn Fabray.

Santana felt slightly overdressed in her flowing red dress. Despite how impractical her dress looked, it was well designed. Should the situation arise, the bottom of her dress could be removed in an instant, (leaving her with a short and tight dress) and revealing the handguns strapped to her body. But at this moment they remained hidden. This was no tea party. Business had to be dealt with and given their past history, it was bound to end in bloodshed.

Santana's emotions were hidden behind her mask, locked deep behind the facade she had created. A emotionless, cold and distant. To the outsider, she was the perfect representation of the Lopez clan.

Attractive. Confident. Sexy.

Cocky. Fiery. Intelligent.

"We do not mean to disrespect you but...why are the Fabrays on our turf? I thought we had come to an agreement, Russell."

Antonio's voice echoed in the warehouse, ringing in everyone's ears. Beneath the polite words there was an underlying hint of anger. A challenge.

Russell smiled but it never reached his eyes. His smile did nothing to melt the frigid blue of the orbs. When he spoke his tone was oddly even and calm.

"We had a major operation that needed to be completed in this region. The client insisted we personally complete the job. This is a temporary arrangement. We do not mean to trespass."

Santana felt her eyes drifting over to Quinn, a sharp ache pierced at her heart when she saw the blonde. Over 24 hours ago she had been tangled in Quinn's arms, lost in their own thoughts, encapsulated in a contemplative silence. In less than a day she had lost it all. Now standing before her, regarding the scene unfold with disdain wasn't the same Quinn. In her place, Santana saw was someone else. The irony of all this was the fact that the Santana that stood in her own place was too a different person entirely.

Santana's stomach dipped uncomfortably but she was not able to pinpoint the exact cause of it.

Quinn looked the same as when Santana had first caught sight of her.

Beautiful. Dangerous. Deadly.

Calculating. Manipulative. A heartbreaker.

The single braid of messy golden hair fell across Quinn's left shoulder. In some places strands escaped, golden tresses sticking out in all directions, but Quinn still somehow managed to make the slightly ruffled hair look good. The uncomfortable feeling in her stomach intensified and Santana shifted through her emotions, her thoughts trying to discern what she should have been thinking from what she as Santana, a Lopez shouldn't be feeling.

She should be feeling confident, cocky, and pure hatred towards the Fabrays.

She shouldn't be feeling the gentle tug that drew her towards the blonde or the ripples of desperation and sadness which spread like waves across her heart; like they would across the surface of water.

Amongst the swarm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, there was one particular thought which confused her. It occurred to her that foreign sensation in her stomach because she felt intimidated.

She felt intimidated by _Quinn_. The carefree smiles that once lit up Quinn's face was now replaced with a mask much like her own. Quinn's walls were suddenly up, locking her out, and frankly it intimidated Santana. The way Quinn was able to shut down so fast; to slip into her role so easily. Santana felt naked behind the flimsy mask that she knew sure Quinn could see right through.

They had promised to forget. It was one simple job.

_Why was it so hard?_

The hazel eyes sought out brown. When their eyes met, Santana's heart beat quickened, and her heart thudded loudly in her chest. She could feel the way her dark brown eyes pleaded with the hazel, glistening over with unshed tears. She didn't know what she was pleading for. Maybe Santana was begging Quinn for confirmation that this all to be a bad dream and that she would wake up still encompassed by the blonde's scent. Maybe the chocolate orbs were searching for a glimpse of softness behind the guarded eyes. Santana watched as the walls momentarily crumbled and conflicting emotions flashed across the blonde's eyes. Quinn turned her head away jaw clenched.

"We respect you. You are the best in your area. We would've liked a heads up on this though."

Santana's attention was drawn back to the conversation between the two leaders.

At Antonio's words, anger flashed in Russell's blue eyes. The man's nostrils flared and he clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. He snarled at Antonio, seething with rage.

"What about our man that was killed? Did you give us a heads up on that one?" Russell spoke through gritted teeth.

Surprise flashed across Antonio face for a split second before it disappeared again. The older Lopez narrowed his eyes, disbelief coloured his face.

"Who?"

"Dave Karofsky." Russell's tone was clipped. "My Son-in-law."

The last part of Russell's reply was spat at Antonio laced with venom and deep hatred.

Dave Karofsky. The man had repeatedly insulted the Lopez clan. He had never been quiet about his loathing for the Lopezs. Russell was well aware of the man's nightly actions, often arriving home late after a drunken fight with someone who had been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The increasing tensions between the two clans further fueled Dave's thick headed and brash actions.

At Dave Karofsky's name Antonio just knew who did it. He turned around and glared at his nephew. His brown eyes were dark.

Dave Karofsky had met his match in the equally hot headed Carlos Lopez. The Lopez was well known for his hatred towards the Fabrays. He was cunning and quick with his sharp tongue, shooting out harsh words that often hit a nerve at his opponent. But he could be deceivingly charming, like a snake. And he was even quicker with his gun.

Carlos's laughter suddenly rang out, the chuckling sound of a manic, startling a few of the men. It was the laughter of someone who wasn't the slightest bit remorseful. Carlo's head was thrown back and in that moment he looked completely unhinged and crazy.

"Karofsky was a wimp. He died begging for mercy!"

Carlos's eyes were glazed over. His lips upturned into a sneer.

"Begging for his life. On his knees. Where he belonged. It wasn't too hard to convince him to do what he did with me. He seemed to enjoy himself, especially what he did for me with his mouth and tongue. It was obvious. Dave was gay."

The sequence that followed seemed like a choreographed scene from a movie. The mechanical cocking of several guns, followed by the simultaneous sounds of gunshots ringing. A blossom of red blood from Carlos's body as he jerked backwards, metal bullets burying themselves into his flesh and vital organs.

Carlos was dead within a heartbeat.

And suddenly the bloodshed began, the men dived for cover, using the abandoned metal containers, a retreat from where they fired rounds after rounds of bullets. Antonio's men were quick and they returned fire.

Bullets flew, they ricocheted off the walls and the metal railings around the warehouse. Sparks jumped wherever the bullets met metal. They kicked up dust where they landed on the ground. The warehouse was filled with the smell of gunpowder and sounds of chaos. The shouting of men mixing with the gunfire that incessantly rang from their machine guns.

People were cut down with bullets, falling mid step, in an explosion of blood and pained cries.

Blood splatters covered the walls and the red liquid of life (or death in this case) seeped into the ground, permanently staining the floors of the warehouse.

Santana's reflexes kicked in, she dived to the side and nailing one of Fabray's men with a bullet into the head. An instant kill. The impact as she collided with the hard ground jarred her body. Santana gritted her teeth and resumed a crouching position.

Her eyes desperately searched for Quinn, flickering around the warehouse. Amongst all the hatred that filled the room and fueled the current battle, all Santana could think of was Quinn.

Quinn needed to be safe.

Fuck this shit.

Fuck this fucking family feud.

Santana grip on her handgun tightened. To her right lay a dead man, Santana shoved her handgun into the holster at her hip and grabbed the discarded machine gun, ignoring the crusted blood at its muzzle.

When her ears picked up Quinn's panicked voice, Santana rolled out from where she had taken cover. She watched as Quinn took down two of Antonio's men using the butt of the rifle she held. They landed with a thud at the blonde's feet.

Santana was suddenly by her side, she caught the blonde, ensnarling Quinn's wrist with her hand.

Quinn eyes widened in surprise. Santana's grip on her wrist was firm as she dragged Quinn around the corner. Their footsteps were light and soft in comparison to the chaos unfolding around them. The concrete pillar was cold to the touch and Quinn shivered as it made contact with her back. A warmth pressed itself up against her front and she was suddenly surrounded by Santana's scent. Santana raised a finger to her lips silencing any protests that were about to escape from Quinn's mouth.

Quinn closed her mouth, focusing on steadying her own heavy breathing. Santana's body was flush against her, the Latina's chest rapidly rose and fell, blowing warm air onto the bare skin at the juncture between Quinn's neck and her collar bone. Quinn felt her own pulse quicken. She wasn't sure if it was due to their close proximity, the way tingles dancing across her skin where Santana's breath hit her. Or if it was the adrenaline rush that still coursed through her body, her reactions to the gun shots that continuous sounded, a defense mechanism.

But for some reason, even under these circumstances, she felt so at peace. She was in Santana's arms again and that was where she belonged.

They locked eyes.

Santana watched as Quinn's hazel eyes became stormy.

Quinn could feel those chocolate orbs regarding her. It was as if Santana could see right into her soul. Deciphering the multitude of colours and emotions that swirled in Quinn's eyes. The stony wall that Quinn had erected had long crumbled to dust and in that moment, Quinn knew Santana could see everything. Santana eyes held her gaze, seemingly shifting through her thoughts and carefully picking out the emotions that lay beneath the ruins of her walls. She could feel Quinn's fear, hear her desperation, taste sadness on the tip of her own tongue, and see the inner turmoil, a hurricane that destroyed all in its path.

The war between her love for Santana and her loyalty to her father was destroying her.

The Santana Lopez she knew, the one she fell in love with was nothing like what her family had painted her out to be. This Santana Lopez had caused Quinn to question everything she believed.

Everything her father had taught her. Drilled in from a young age, embedded so deep within her mind that she was so sure the thoughts had been her own. The same thoughts that the Fabray's as a collective shared, something resemblant of a family trait.

Quinn wasn't meant to talk to the Lopez heir. She wasn't sure what had possessed her that fateful day. Thousands of outcomes could have resulted from that interaction. Every single one that Quinn had imagined would have been more believable than what had actually happened. She had prepared for Santana's inevitable hostility and she had planned it out. She was Quinn Fabray after all and she was going to show Santana Lopez who was in charge. Show her why the Fabrays were so well known. She had planned to undermine Santana's position within the "high school hierarchy". To make her life living hell.

At most they would just pass each other in the hallways. Never sparing each other a second glance. She was never meant to allow herself to get close.

And they would have become the enemies they were destined to be.

She hadn't planned on this happening.

"I love you, Santana."

Santana's eyes widened. Quinn watched as both panic and then pain flashed across those wide brown orbs.

"We can't." Santana whispered, her voice barely audible. Santana's eyelids fluttered shut, hiding her emotions away from the hazel pair watching her. The words that came out of her own mouth stung at her tongue and stabbed at Santana's heart like a dagger.

_We can't._

Santana felt her throat close up, her lips began to quiver slightly and a heavy weight rested itself on her chest. Santana felt like she was going to combust. Her brain seemed to be in a swirling mess of conflicting emotions, each as strong as the other.

Quinn. Her heart bloomed in her chest before constricting painfully. She was in love with Quinn but she would never have a chance to be with her.

_We can't._

"I love you Santana." Quinn's said louder, her slightly husky voice never wavered.

Santana exhaled and Quinn could almost taste the frustration on her breath as it ghosted over her own lips. Santana brown eyes were met with a mess of green and brown. Quinn's gaze sent a warm tingling sensation surging through her body. It hit her with so much force leaving her breathless. The blonde's love for Santana was reflected so clear in those shining hazel orbs.

Santana's eyes flickered down to Quinn's parted lips. The was a sharp intake of air as Quinn's breathing hitched.

Then Quinn leaned forward.

Santana's pulse quickened and she closed her eyes. Her stomach dropped and Santana felt like she was suddenly in freefall. The world around her disappeared and she was surrounded by the scent of vanilla and honey. It was just Quinn and herself.

"Santana Lopez!" Puck shouted at her, but she didn't hear it. The world around her was muffled, the only sound she could hear was the beating of her heart and the sound of blood coursing through her veins.

_Fuck it._

Santana took a deep breath and closed the distance between their lips.

* * *

**A/N: yey! hope you all enjoyed it, tell me if you think it's any good :) +1 for bamf Quinntana haha, havent really edited it too much so there may be le errors and stuffs :) I really need to get back into writing mode :D thank you again for reading :] I may or may not decide to continue this, if i do, i think the series will be more of a collection of one shots belonging to the same universe etc :) **

**all feedback is welcome :) **


End file.
